


Count Down To The End (Gotta Make It Come Faster)

by WeirdAlterEgo



Series: Bruce's Lessons For Inexperienced Young Men [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Butt Plugs, Drugged Sex, Drugs, M/M, Mutual Non-Con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, Sex Toys, one single diaper(that shall not be mentioned henceforth), unbetaed hot mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27978144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdAlterEgo/pseuds/WeirdAlterEgo
Summary: Tim shivers, feels bile rising in his throat. "Please. Please don't put me into the box again. Please Bruce don't!!" He swallows the bile down, but it's still there, biding its time.The hand goes back to combing his hair. His horrified mind wonders, semi-detached, if Bruce would smack him if he projectile vomited on him. He thinks Bruce would. He swallows the bile down again in terror."You won't go back into the box again." Bruce promises him.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Bruce's Lessons For Inexperienced Young Men [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952965
Comments: 38
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank all of my commenters, because dang, you guys keep me going.
> 
> Also, hopefully with Tim's punishment and the plot advancement this can go back to being fucked up dup-con/non-con without all the plot. And Tim's pov. I miss him.
> 
> (Could you tell how much of a toll Bruce's voice, and especially Dick's took on me? Probably not, but yeah, I did not enjoy it. Blergh. This is why you get chaptered works. Sorry.)
> 
> Also if someone still didn't clue in: this is RAPE. Tim is NOT HAPPY. Jason's REALLY NOT HAPPY. (Bruce is happy, but fuck him.)

He is exhausted after Bruce cleans him out, his stomach is still protesting its rough treatment. But at least he is out of the box, and he is empty. He wants to beg Bruce again but he is too weak to talk and pay attention to putting one foot in front of the other _and_ talk, so he shuffles forward in silent concentration.

When they pass the other occupied cage he tries to look, but all he can see is a passed-out body on the floor. A huge body. Proportional then, for the man felt huge in Tim earlier.

He gives a sob as he feels his mind shutting down against the last few... he struggles to remember how long it has been. He stumbles, but doesn't fall because Bruce catches him, smacks his ass hard.

"Focus," his voice cracks and Tim tries to. he stops thinking. He walks.

He is deposited inside his cage, drinks the bottle of water he is offered, eats the granola bar while Bruce watches.

"I'm sorry!" he tells him, over and over whenever he can breathe between bites. He is. He is so terribly sorry.

Bruce's mouth is an unforgiving harsh line. "I know. But I'm still very disappointed in you. You, who knew better. You knew all of what your single act of wanton revenge would have caused. Even after you knew you always had a family, and a place."

Tim wants to argue, to make Bruce see reason, but he can't. He knows now that it is impossible to contradict the older man, unless he wants more of this _punishment_. Or worse.

He jerks back when he feels a huge hand rest on the top of his head, ruffling his wet hair.

"I know this is hard for you now, and I know you feel sorry _now_ , but this needs to be a lesson you will learn and remember. A deterrent so visceral you cannot go against it." The hand slides down to cup Tim's cheek in a broad palm. "One more session." Bruce promises him. "One more session, and you will be forgiven. If you will continue to be good."

Tim shivers, feels bile rising in his throat. "Please. Please don't put me into the box again. Please Bruce don't!!" He swallows the bile down, but it's still there, biding its time.

The hand goes back to combing his hair. His horrified mind wonders, semi-detached, if Bruce would smack him if he projectile vomited on him. He thinks Bruce would. He swallows the bile down again in terror.

"You won't go back into the box again." Bruce promises him.

At that moment, when he understands what Bruce said, his body begins shaking. It's not small shivers, it's like an earthquake, and he is unable to stop it. He can't do anything. But Bruce pulls Tim into his lap and holds him until the shivers subside, strokes his back and sides until he gentles and goes boneless.

The last thing he feels is something small, cold and hard being slid up his hole, and then he is out.

***

Bruce lays Tim's body down onto the cot and wonders whether he should push another suppository up inside Tim's well-used (ravaged, look at that shade of _red,_ really, they had outdone themselves) hole, made from Ivy's magic salve. He knows he should have made a bigger cast, perhaps made them in the shape of tiny butt-plugs, but there is always next time.

He slides another suppository inside Tim's loose anus and makes a reminder to check the boy after his nap to see if the salve works on tightening the sphincter muscles. He really hopes they do. He likes stuffing Tim with big things, and it is not as much fun when Tim is all stretched and loose. Half the fun is Tim's horrified look as he is made to take those wide things, the incredulous flash of those eyes as they pop inside.

And... of course, there is also the threat to have to choose between the fun of stretching Tim, and not having to put him in an adult diaper after, when he fails to tighten back up. He eyes as a little green drips out of the loose hole and takes out a non-tampered tissue that he balls up and sticks up the boy's hole.

Nobody wants a mess.

He takes one last look at the prone boy, who hopefully will sleep a solid ten hours or more. That would give Bruce enough time to set up the rest of his punishment, as well as Jason's new headgear.

He locks up, goes to Jason's cell and makes sure he is also locked up and goes up to his bedroom so he can sleep, too.

***

When he wakes up, his first act is to check the footage. Both boys are asleep still. He eats breakfast, discusses next week's menu with Alfred, calls up Lucius to praise him on the new glass he provided him with, and then he goes down to the cave.

He finishes the new mask prototype within the hour, but decides on not using it just yet. Not while both Tim and Jason would benefit from the helmet still being in use. Maybe they could retire it after today's session, though.

The harness he modifies from al old one, takes less time than the mask, but it is waiting...

...actually, he doesn't have to wait at all. Why bother with coaxing Tim when he can just go with shock value? See that dazed look turn into horror and then hopelessness.

Ultimately that's what sways him.

He collects the tools and drops them near Jason's cell, and tranqs him before he goes to collect Tim.

The wrung-out boy barely stirs when Bruce picks him up gently and carries him to Jason's cell. Bruce chains Jason up, just for good measure, and fixes his helmet back on. Then, and only then does he turn to inspect the state of Tim's anus. He sits down and pulls the boy's middle into his lap, parting his cheeks to get a good look.

It's _perfect_.

It's a healthy pink colour, tiny and winking with a piece of the tissue paper peeking out of it, coloured green from Ivy's salve. He pulls it out and throws it away before he starts lubing Tim's hole, enjoying its tightness. Ivy's stuff is worth its weight in gold.

He tries to make the stretching perfunctory this time, not wanting to wake Tim up before the fun things start. I)t doesn't matter yet though, because Tim starts to snuffle and press weakly against the ground, so Bruce uses a baby tranq that should only last for a 10 minutes. Hopefully by then Tim will be settled down again, happily speared on Jason, and none the wiser.

He goes on stretching until he has four of his fingers up Tim, and he would be tempted to push up the fifth and make a fist, but not today. Tim will take it, eventually, though. He would, and he would be beautiful on Bruce's fist, smiling angelically... or perhaps crying prettily. They'll see.

He pulls out his fingers, wiping them down before he grabs Jason. He manipulates his prodigal until his erection rises against Tim's pink, glistening hole, and then Bruce just gives a good push... and then again and again until it pops in. He lets gravity do the rest, holding Jason's body until he is bottoming out in Tim, and then he lets go, let Jason just flop over the much smaller boy underneath him.

Then comes the harness.

The harness is fairly easy to attach, and he should have done this to Tim before, put it on him before he was awake. He could have, but the look in his eyes, that horror Bruce loves... it was so much better when it started out as hope. He loves how expressive Tim can be, how suffering makes him look even more beautiful, turns him almost ethereal.

Well, he wonders how ethereal Tim will be now, how beautiful he will sing.

He tranqs one of Jason's muscular cheeks, and gives him a puff from the mellow sex kitten inhaler, just to keep things interesting and fun. This also ensures Jason won't be able to talk to Tim, which is still imperative.

He packs his kit and leaves the cell, making sure to lock it and set the alarms.

***

It takes hours for his boys to wake up. Jason wakes first, which is understandable. Tim is still passed out and trying to recuperate when Jason reaches up, chains clinking, and grabs the helmet. And then he tries to take it off, yanking his hands back when a new trap Bruce installed fries a finger.

Well, that's unfortunate.

Bruce jots down a note about the gas’ longevity and grabs his favourite inhaler to administer it to Jason. Apparently it is finally time for sleeping beauty to get fucked awake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so warning: there is a diaper involved. Also a scene where Tim has to piss badly... and he finds a toilet.
> 
> No watersports, no scat. Both disgust me, so nothing of the sort will be included.

He is nudged awake. No. The world is shaking again. No.

His eyes pop open, scared of seeing the dark again. But he is not in the box. He moves his arm, flailing when a push almost knocks him harshly, face-first into the ground.

His hole feels full, stretched tight around whoever is inside him. He is not hurting, he doesn't think he is torn (Bruce is always careful to prepare him, to leave no visible mark behind), but his knees do ache from the rough treatment. His arms shake from the exertion of ballasting his body against the onslaught.

This is new, but not, at the same time. He feels the harness straining against his hips whenever the body behind him pulls out minutely, but it is not the same harness, not as complicated, as the one Bruce used on him in the beginning of their... training.

The body, the thrusts feel different, too. Different to Bruce and Dick, but not different to the mystery man who, he thinks, has been fucking him in the box for the previous two... sessions? Days? He can't tell anymore.

He tries to stay in place and not get knocked against the ground as he looks up and around. They are in the glass cell, he can see the lamplight glinting off the walls as he sways with every thrust, but he cannot see his cot. That must mean he is in the man's cell.

That's logical. Tim would have picked himself to carry, too, being the slighter one of them. Well, he hasn't seen much of the man, but he looked hulking from across the glass wall.

He is big in every way Tim can tell. He feels hard muscles pressing against him, can barely hold himself against the force of the thrusts. While he is putting all his strength into staying off the ground and weather the mystery man's thrusts, his concentration is minutely broken as he feels himself dribbling.

He is horrified. He tries to stop it, knows he is clenching down in the process, but he can't. He just can't. He would die of shame if Bruce made him piss himself.

Luckily, after a particularly hard thrust he feels the man using him as a toy come inside him. He whimpers as he is filled, as the man squeezes down on his full bladder with an arm and... chains clinking?

He looks down, and yes. There are chains around the man's hands and ankles. What did Bruce get him into?! (Or more like what did Bruce let inside Tim?)

He waits impatiently until the man stops and sags against him while he finds the hole in the ground the man has as a toilet and he tries to move towards it. The man tries to drag him back as soon as he gains an inch and he whines as his bladder is compressed, feeling the pressure throughout his whole body.

"Please!" he begs, because he is not above begging here. "I can't! I can't hold it. Please. Please let me go to the toilet. Please don't make me do this, please! _I can't!!_ "

The pressure eases, though not a lot. He manages to drag them both towards the corner of the cage until they are close enough. He presses against the wall and aims, pissing down the hole with a cock up his ass.

He is horrified. Disgusted. Sick to his stomach and barely there to function. When he was inside the box he could keep his bladder in check, but now... how could Bruce? How could he do this to Tim? What sort of sick, fucked up idea...

He is jerked out of his thoughts when his face meets the wall, before he can put his hand up or move away.

"Not here!!" he yells "please not here!!". He begs until he can wedge an arm between his forehead and the wall, pushing with all his might, until he is wrenched away, turned around and slapped down on hands and knees, and then the man starts fucking him again.

Tim's arms almost give out, they shake and cramp while he tries to keep up against the onslaught. But he holds himself up, or he thinks his face would be rubbed raw, his nose broken and he would choke, bleed out, suffocate...

He lets himself plummet down, hoping for a swift death, a broken skull, choking...

Strong arms envelope him and pull him back against a strong, warm chest, pull him back harder onto that erection pummeling his insides. He comes, and he is surprised, for he didn't even feel the buildup. His come splatters against the floor, and he sobs as the man fucks him through it, until every last drop is wrung from him, until he is empty and aching and sensitive.

He is fucked hard until he rises again, the dick inside him wide enough it doesn't need to aim against his prostate, it's rubbed with every thrust, with no need for finesse. Tim sobs and moans as he is plowed without care. He feels like a ventriloquist's puppet, he thinks hysterically. He would laugh if it weren't so terrifying, getting fucked by a man he is tied to. A man who is just as much a captive as Tim is.

He sobs as he feel himself nearing another orgasm, stretched so tight and prostate battered, when his head hits the glass wall. He looks up and slaps his palms against it in reflex, trying to push back, to get just a little space to breathe.

The arms move from his middle, move under his thighs and he is lifted and pushed against the window. The glass squeaks as his body is pushed and dragged up against it. He whimpers as his thighs get stretched, spread apart when his front is pushed flat against the window, straining erection drooling precome against the cool glass while the man fucks into him like a machine from behind.

He stares, unseeing through the glass, eyes refocusing as his head sways from the force of each thrust, until the darkness he sees takes shape and he realizes he is seeing Bruce.

He looks up and sees Bruce, watching him... watching Tim get fucked from the other side with a smile on his face.

He wants to run away and hide when he feels himself coming on the cock of the man raping him, while Bruce watches Tim come against the glass and his stomach, while Bruce watches as the man pastes Tim against the glass using his entire body and fucks up into him once, twice, before he unloads deep inside Tim's bowels.

Tim is horrified. He is... he can't. _No._

They stay there for a while, against the window while Tim's come cools and drips down, and then Tim is pulled back. That's when he catches their reflection. He finally catches sight of the man behind him, and he sees red. A red helmet.

_It's the Red Hood's helmet._

They go down as the man carrying both of their weight suddenly goes boneless, and Tim falls down on his lap in a heap, legs akimbo, arms wherever they fall, sweaty, chilly back against warm muscled front as he stares, stares at their reflection.

Bruce wouldn't kidnap the Red Hood and force him to rape Tim and Damian, would he?

_Would he?_

Tim isn't sure about anything, any more.

He stares up at Bruce, unsure whether he is allowed to talk. Unsure whether it is in his best interest. Unsure if he would even rate an answer. Unsure _if it's even worth it._

What if Bruce has him fucked by the Red Hood? He was boxed and brutally fucked the previous day. What Tim wants doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Bruce decides all. And he can't escape Bruce.

Ultimately, he knows all he can do is weather through this. So he just goes boneless and lets it happen as the Red Hood starts fucking him on his cock, arms coming around Tim's waist to pull him up and down as far as the harness would let him. He tries to disconnect his mind as he stares at Bruce as the man watches them with a knowing smile on his face. He tries not to think about anything, to beg Bruce with his eyes to not do this to him.

He knows that he could talk. Beg. Plead with Bruce. He isn't gagged, after all. But... what if that incurs more punishment? He has learnt now that his best course of action is but to take it.

He stares at Bruce as he hardens. He stares at Bruce as he comes on the Red Hood's pistoning cock. He stares at Bruce as the Red Hood comes again inside his sensitive, much-abused passage.

He is but a puppet, but instead of having the ventriloquist's hands manipulate him, there is just another puppet inside him, pulling his strings. Making him come.

He closes his eyes. It's his last form of defiance. He waits until the man rises again. He cries out and curls his arms around his head when he is upended, lands on his arms and knees as he is fucked again.

He hurts. His muscles protest, his knees and arms are scraped raw, his insides also, his prostate burning. He feels empty, but he still rises again and comes dry before he is unloaded into. Again.

They stay there, motionless but for the breathing. Tim doesn't think he can rise again, but the man can. It takes longer now, and the man has to work harder to near completion, but Tim is fucked again. He cries and sobs and whines and whimpers as his body is battered, pummeled like a sex toy until the man coats his bowels with even more come, and then Tim's waist is let go as they both slump down, still connected cock in hole.

Neither of them moves.

Tim doesn't dare to say a word. The other man is silent in his helmet, and Tim is certain that helmet has been modified to suit Bruce's needs, otherwise it wouldn't still be on. Tim doesn't want to know.

He doesn't want to know anything.

He hiccoughs and breathes and waits.

They both wait.

The door opens.

"I hope you both learnt your lesson." Bruce's voice comes both powerful and quiet.

Tim shivers and feels the bile rise in his throat. He swallows it back down. He is filthy enough.

"Tim. I know the last three days have been taxing, but you should _never_ forget your manners."

Tim feels as his face is grabbed, and he is pulled up, neck straining until he puts his screaming muscles to good use and he lifts himself and the other man up lest his head pop off his body.

"Did you learn your lesson, Tim?" Bruce asks all nice and benevolent, and Tim has to swallow bile back down again and bite his tongue.

"I did." He says instead. "I'm really sorry. Please forgive me."

Bruce strokes his cheek and hums as he observes Tim, and Tim hopes he likes what he sees, for Tim can't withstand any more punishment. He knows he can't take any more.

"Good." Bruce lets them go, but Tim doesn't dare going lax again, even though staying up and vaguely vertical makes his muscles tense up, even his anal ones, and he can feel the Red Hood's dick, soft but thick inside him and it's... it's wrong. _Bad_ wrong. His mind sobs.

He hears a clang. "You both need a bath. Will you behave if I take the helmet off? If you don't... Tim will be punished."

Tim shivers again, chilled to the bone.

He _wouldn't_.

_He would._

He feels movement behind him, and the next moment he sees Bruce lean over him. There are a series of clangs and then Bruce pulls back, with the helmet in his hand. The Red Hood... if he really is the Red Hood, is unmasked. And Tim is too tired to care.

"Follow me. And grab him. You don't want Tim to get hurt, do we?"

"Fuck you," comes the unknown voice. It is quiet and harsh, like they have been yelling and screaming for a while. They could have, inside the helmet, Tim thinks. The man sounds young.

"Language," chides Bruce and then turns and walks out. "Remember. One wrong move and it'll be Tim who gets punished. You wouldn't like to watch that happen, now would you?"

They follow Bruce, while the man holds Tim up, and he is so gentle and careful enough to hold Tim high, so high the harness bites into Tim's skin and he doesn't feel himself getting fucked. He weeps from sheer relief, for he was so scared, but this man, whoever he is, is _kind_.

"I'm really sorry." Tim hears a faint whisper and feels soft breaths puffing against his ear. "He gasses me. I can't-"

"No chitchat," Bruce voice cracks at them like a whip and Tim's muscles lock up automatically.

"Monster." Tim hears so faintly he thinks he might have imagined it. But surely not. Surely...

They arrive in a little shower in the same hidden part of the cave. Tim thinks Bruce is trying to hide them from prying eyes, maybe even from Alfred. They stand... the Red Hood stands while Bruce undoes the harness to free them from each other.

"Clench down," he instructs Tim, and Tim knows his night won't be an easy one.

As the man carefully pulls his soft member out Tim tries to clench his hole, but there is still some drippage before Bruce pushes something small inside him before a plug is pushed up his abused passage. It's thinner than the Red Hood, at least. Tim whimpers quietly, clenching his eyes shut against the tears. He had shed enough.

When he is thoroughly stoppered, Bruce steps back.

"You will wash each other now."

Tim reaches to turn the water on before he even thinks about it. He is disgusted with himself that he obeys the man without a thought. He looks up at his "playmate" and stops. Water droplets rain down on half of his body as he stares in pure shock.

No.

No way.

Surely not.

How?!

"Tim. Don't dawdle."

He automatically reaches for the shower gel, pouring it and lathering it as he stares at the man's face, at his hair with a baffling white streak, and his eyes just the wrong shade of blue. More like teal. Almost green.

"Jason? jason Todd?!" he whispers, awed.

"Another word out of either one of you and Tim goes back into the box."

Tim's horrified look is mirrored by Jason, who just nods, empathically, and starts lathering up his hands.

They wash each other awkwardly while Bruce watches. It's perfunctory and tentative. Tim tries to catalogue scars, but the Red Hood has barely any, and Tim thinks he knows why. He just looks at the boy... young man, and he nods, as if he had read Tim's mind. Tim tries not to whimper when he cleans off the member that has just been inside him, that has fucked him for three days now. Even in its limp state it's massive, and he is horrified... He is just.

He _can't._

He wants to curl up and shut his mind off as the man washes his back and comes against the round base of the plug, just washing around it, caressing his raw hole with a gentle finger before rinsing him, and Tim is so glad for a gentle hand that's not Bruce. He tries to convey it with a look, and he thinks Jason gets it.

Until the water is shut off, they dry themselves. Without any warning Bruce injects Jason with something that has his eyes roll back and faint into his father's waiting hands.

"You will walk with me." Bruce tells Tim, and Tim can't argue as he watches Jason getting lifted and carried.

He waddles by their side until Bruce deposits the young man in his cell, locks the doors and takes Tim by the hand.

"Jason is very well endowed," Bruce tells him. "I know your hole must be hurting."

Tim keeps quiet. He doesn't know whether he can talk, or should talk, but he has learnt it is best to bite his tongue when Bruce is talking. He keeps waddling, wincing at the pain.

"I have some salve that could help. But Jason has stretched you so far up my fingers couldn't reach. This is why I made it into a suppository. And a plug for when you play with Jason."

Tim doesn't sigh. Of course it's new things to push up his hole. His ass gets played with all the time now. He isn't even surprised anymore.

He enters his cell, lets Bruce push his front down with his ass up in the air. He watches as Bruce takes his black bag from Tim's cot, opens it. The plug is pulled from his ass and another one is pushed in. The new plug is weird and slimy and _cold_ , but it soothes Tim's insides as soon as it's in. Still, even though he tried clenching down, he feels Jason's seed trickling down the inside of his thigh.

Bruce tsks.

"Not to worry," Bruce tells him kindly.

That's how Tim knows something bad is about to happen. He takes a deep breath, holds it in, breathes out. He can do this.

Something crinkles, but he can't see.

"There we go!" Bruce croons as he folds something around Tim's bottom half and fastens it. It takes Tim too long to realize what it is. Until he gets it.

He wants to scream. He is _horrified._ His mind shies away, can barely grasp that this is real, that Bruce had just put him in an adult diaper.

"Please," he whimpers. "Please don't! Bruce I promise I will be good, I'll be good, I'll be so good, I've been good, please _I will keep it all in, I promise,_ I'm so sorry _please don't put that on me pleasepleasedon't_!" he knows he is whining and sobbing and begging and possibly panicking but it can't. He can't. This is too much.

But Bruce just chuckles as pats his diapered bottom.

"It's all right. It'll be our little secret. Don't be shy now. A little trickle now and then is understandable. Jason is a _very_ big boy, after all." But Tim is still sobbing, so Bruce sighs. "It's just until you are back to your usual tightness."

Tim wants to curl under the bed and disappear from the humiliation. Instead he stays perfectly still as Jason's dripping seed is wiped off with a wet wipe. He endures more cooing as Bruce pulls him up and strokes his belly, hands straying down to feel the edge of the diaper.

Tim weeps quietly.

"There now," Bruce says and kisses his tears away with a sharp, dark grin. "Be good. Drink, eat, sleep. You will be forgiven tomorrow."

Tim watches him leave after a last, humiliating pat on his diapered bottom, and then he sits down and drinks the water, eats the food and crawls under the cot to sleep, hopefully hidden from the world.

***

He wakes up in the dark.

He doesn't know what woke him until he feels a trickle. He clenches his asshole against the plug, but _there is no plug_.

Of course. It was the salve. Bruce told him he made a plug of it. Tim should have wondered why it was so cold.

He is horrified as he feels Jason's seed and the salve dripping out of his hole, and for a single moment he is glad to have the diaper, to not make a mess. He is less happy when he feels himself harden.

He knows he is not horny. Certainly not after the days he's had. Not after everything he went through. He is more disgusted than anything. He is too sick to his stomach... No, this is not him.

But still he rises inside that _hateful thing_ and he remembers Bruce sliding something else up inside him and he curls up and tries to will it away.

Half an hour later, when he can barely think from the urge but unable to slide a hand inside the diaper for it has no give (Bruce _must_ have designed it specifically for this), he uses his hands to nudge the soft material of the diaper to give himself friction and he comes and comes and comes. He rides his hands to rub himself into sickening orgasm after sickening orgasm until he faints back to sleep again.

***

When Bruce lifts him onto his cot in the morning and unwraps him from the diaper, he tuts gently as he notes the dried semen around his privates.

"Well now. Maybe you enjoyed it a _little_ too much."

"Please," Tim begs him quietly. "Please. No more."

Bruce strokes a broad hand down his cheek. "As long as you behave."

Tim nods meekly.

He will behave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The diaper is mostly for shock value (edit: for Tim)/depraved Bruce showing how he can make Tim do anything and take things away from him,but uh... that's not a direction we will be going towards.
> 
> This was a one-time thing so Tim gets thoroughly broken.


End file.
